srdubya
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The Weaver
My Dad was a master storyteller. Not only did we hear his own stories, but he also read to us nightly at the dinner table. We marched through valleys and dales, fought dragons, went through wardrobes, elven lands, and through… Continue reading
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This Place Still Their Own
Twas the day (and eve) of homecoming, and all through the placeThe house held its breath in a very hopeful grace.The guinea pigs in their cages, the dogs by the door,Because they’ll be here soon—we know they will, we swear. The… Continue reading
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All Is Not Lost
I started this post four months ago. All it had was the title. I have no idea what I had on my mind in June, but rather than dump it, I thought I’d sit with it and consider what is… Continue reading
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Stepping
In 2001, at the age of 29, I married far too quickly. I’ve mentioned this before, but it was a train wreck before we even really got going. Filled with mistrust and lies, I married anyway, despite my gut feeling… Continue reading
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The Soft Life
Some people were meant to have soft, gentle lives. I was not one of them. Sometimes through choices of my own, and sometimes because of the things life has thrown at me, I’ve had to navigate a fair amount of… Continue reading
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Life As Merida
Once upon a time, there was a young girl who wanted to do it all without being bossed around and it got her into some trouble, but also taught her some valuable lessons. Merida, from the movie Brave, is one… Continue reading
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Life As Cinderella
Once upon a time, I had a housekeeper, and it wasn’t me. I paid for this service twice a month, and it was amazing. Also, I did not have children full-time in the home, which, in hindsight, feels ridiculous now… Continue reading
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Slip Of The Skirt
The wrap-around skirt. Several days ago I arranged to meet a new mentor for my youngest son at our home. Running behind, I zipped into my driveway right as he also pulled up to the curb. I quickly got out… Continue reading
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My Village
I graduated from high school 34 years ago. Between 1990 and 2018 I’ve moved 16 times, spanning 5 states and 10 cities. Because I’ve relocated so frequently, my village is quite spread out. I no longer live in the city… Continue reading
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That Mom
I’m funny and nice, but don’t cross me when it comes to my kids. There’s a guy named Richard—I’m pretty sure that’s his actual name—I’ve encountered him several times over the phone at one of my children’s medical provider offices.… Continue reading
A Nested Heart 